White Steel Serenity
by Pyralis Anacreon
Summary: Part 3 of the Mortal Conversion series. They've traded up the FBI for an even more powerful enemy. They will have to be smarter, stronger, and faster than ever before to avoid this new threat, and face the consequences of giving in to the wolf.
1. War Dog

White Steel Serenity

* * *

><p>Part 3 of the Mortal Conversion series. They've traded up the FBI for an even more powerful enemy. They will have to be smarter, stronger, and faster than ever before to avoid this new threat, and face the consequences of giving in to the wolf.<p>

* * *

><p>Chapter One: War Dog<p>

* * *

><p><strong>NOW - TORY<strong>

"I want to say that this is your fault." Tory says conversationally, spitting blood out of her mouth. Some of it is hers, where her new teeth have broken her gums, but some of it isn't. "That you made me this way. But that's a lie, and unlike you I try to avoid lying where I can."

She advances on the man, sitting propped up against the wall. He looks so tired, one leg splayed at an odd angle where she's broken it.

"Truth is, you made this possible, but I'm the one who made the choice. I didn't have to become what you wanted. But if that's what I have to do, I'll become a monster." She looks at his leg. "How I wish you could run, so I could bring you down like prey. I'd be celebrated in the pack, for hunting the king bull. I would, _if you hadn't killed them_."

* * *

><p><strong>SIX MONTHS AGO - THE PACK<strong>

"Any luck today?" Tory asks Ben, setting her bag down beside the door.

"Got picked twice," Ben says. "First one was fixing a guy's house up, I mostly did the painting. Second, we built a shed. Made two hundred all told."

"Good take. Not counting what Hi or Shelton's made, that brings us to about thirty-five hundred. Niel says it's a thousand per person."

"We're close." Ben says. "I never really thought we'd make it this far."

Tory catches his eye. "You having second thoughts?"

Ben hesitates. "Just that this is our home. America. The United States. It feels wrong to be leaving."

"If we stay, we're in danger. Even with new identities, we're still wanted. They have our pictures, they're looking for us."

"That's why I want to leave, too. It just doesn't feel right."

"I know," Tory says quietly, wrapping an arm around his neck in half a hug. "Soon we'll have a new territory. One with less hunters."

* * *

><p><strong>SIX MONTHS AGO - THE PACK<strong>

Cooper hears it first, soft footsteps outside their apartment. It's not another tennant coming home; their feet fall heavy and fast. His head goes up, ears pricked. He gives the warning, three quiet _whuffs_ that mean _danger_.

They're all awake in seconds, moving around, grabbing the essentials. They have bags packed for just this instance. It's happened twice before, that they've been found.

Tory's eyes flicker golden as she pauses, motioning for them to stop. They all freeze, and in the sudden silence Tory can hear heartbeats. Her pack's - and ten others.

"They're covering the fire escape," she mouths to the others. They had used that to escape the second time. "Too many to fight. The closet."

Hi's standing closest. He twists the handle of the closet, wincing at every click as it opens. The hinges are almost drowned in oil, and can't make even the slightest noise. At the back of the bare closet, there's a square hole cut out of the drywall, leading into darkness.

"Go," Tory whispers.

Hi, then Shelton, then Ben slip through into the hole. It's almost soundless, although Ben's bag scrapes the rough edges as he ducks in. Tory takes one last glance around the room and motions Cooper inside the closet, closing the door behind her. She sends Cooper through and crawls over herself, into another closet on the other side which is at this point getting to be a little crowded.

Hi, mashed up against the door, turns the handle, and they all come spilling out.

And the trap closes around them.

* * *

><p><strong>SIX MONTHS AGO<strong>

"Their mutt is putting up a fuss." Doctor Smith says, coming up to stand next to Agent Smith. "Won't stop barking and howling. We had to sedate it."

"Don't let it hurt itself." Agent Smith says. "It might be useful later on."

"Of course," the doctor says. They both watch the screens in silence. On four different monitors are four different people. They're labeled Subject 1 - TB, Subject 2 - BB, Subject 3 - HS, Subject 4 - SD.

"What's happened so far?" the doctor asks.

"After we separated them they each became far more violent and unpredictable. We had to sedate them in order to get blood samples; the sedatives wore off fast. Subject one hasn't stopped pacing since she woke up. The others sit for a while, pace, sit, pace. Subject three tried sleeping."

"Anything unusual?"

Agent Smith points to Subject 2 - BB. "That one keeps grabbing the bars and pulling at them. We'll need to transfer him to somewhere more secure soon. He's actually bending them."

The doctor frowns. "They're made of steel."

The agent mutters, wryly, "So are they."

* * *

><p><strong>SIX MONTHS AGO - TORY<strong>

She's at the bars in front of her cage even before the woman comes into sight, gripping so hard her knuckles turn white. She presses her face to the bars and resists the urge to snarl when she sees the woman in the white coat.

The woman's name tag says 'Doctor Smith'. Tory thinks about ripping the bars out of the floor and hitting her with them. She wants something to destroy, but her cell is just a concrete box.

Smith just stands there with a clipboard, watching. Finally she asks, "Can you tell me your name?"

Tory really does growl at her. She becomes aware of a faint scent of primal fear - intellectually the woman knows Tory is contained, but a baser part of her only sees a furious wolf, and wants to run away. Tory smiles.

"You're scared." she states. Somehow just knowing this calms her. "I can see it on you. I can smell it written in your sweat." Tory bares her teeth in a mockery of a smile.

The fear-scent swells a little more. Tory can see the woman trying to push it back, to seem calm. She looks down at her clipboard, writing something, and looks back up at Tory.

She can't look away.

Her gaze is caught in a mad, yellow stare. Somehow she knows that if she looks away for just a second the wolf will be upon her, will devour her whole. If her eyes flicker, or close even once, she's dead. She has to keep them open, looking into that cold, wild, madness. How could she have ever thought these eyes were as soft as gold, as warm as amber? They're two frozen stars, bright and impossible.

Her eyes burning, with a supreme force of will Doctor Smith blinks. She wrenches her eyes away and doesn't dare look up again. She knows, from the corner of her eye, that Victoria Brennan is giving her that mad, sharp-toothed grin.

* * *

><p><strong>SIX MONTHS AGO - THE PACK<strong>

The cell doors come unlatched all at once in four different cells. Their four occupants waste no time; they are all out less than a second after the latches come up, and running down the only path available. The four halls converge on one main room with no discernible exit, whose doors lock tight after being opened only once.

In this way the four subjects are allowed to meet once again, and are trapped where they do so.

They all arrive at almost exactly the same moment, and don't break stride for even a second, meeting up in the center of the room. There they fall together, touching, reassuring, becoming acquainted again. Agent Smith turns up the volume on the cameras to catch their words.

" - how long?" Tory is saying.

"Two days I think. Feels like two years. I hate..." Hi says, shuddering.

"Yes, I **hate**." Tory agrees, spitting the last word.

"Did they try to take blood?" Ben asks.

"Had to knock me out." Shelton says.

"Yeah,"

"Same,"

"We don't give them anything." Tory says, looking at all their faces. "Fight them every step of the way."

"What will they do?" Hi asks.

Shelton swallows and speaks up. "Our blood. They want us for what we can do. Figure out how it happened... see if they can make it happen again."

"Can they?" Tory asks.

Shelton shrugs. "Maybe, maybe not."

"We will try." Agent Smith breaks in, speaking over the intercom. "And in the meantime, we want to know more about you. What you can do. But really it'll all go easier if we have your cooperation."

"You've been listening," Tory says, narrowing her eyes at one of the cameras. "You know we're never going to work with you."

Unseen, Agent Smith smiles. "You wouldn't be able to guess how many people say that. Most of them come around in the end."

"And the ones that don't?"

"They end, too."

Tory anchors herself on her pack, one hand on Ben's should, another on Shelton's. Ben has a hand wrapped around Hi's wrist, another on Tory's ankle. Shelton's pressed side-to-side with Hi and gripping Tory's forearm. The gas comes hissing into the room through hidden vents.

"When you swear not to harm the people who work here," Smith says as they're fading. "We'll start moving on with the project."

* * *

><p><strong>ONE MONTH AGO - TORY<strong>

"Alpha, what's your position?"

"North wall," Tory mutters into her comm. "Going to east entrance. Report."

"Pluto on the South wall." Hi says.

"Balto at east entrance." Ben says.

"Rin Tin Tin in position." Shelton says.

"Move in," Tory orders. "We've got a man to catch."

* * *

><p><strong>FIVE MONTHS AGO - BEN<strong>

Every once in a while he falls asleep to the sound of hissing gas, and wakes up to find food left in his cell. It's set on the floor, a tray separated into three sections and a liter of water. He makes the water last longer. The food is gone too fast. He's always hungry.

At some point they turned out the lights. It's always pitch dark now. He's starting to forget what seeing was like. He has to clasp his hands together to prove he's still there, has to shuffle around the cell to find the food because he never knows when it's brought anymore. He can't tell the difference between sleeping and waking. Even the hiss of the gas has gone.

Ben is slowly being unmade, and he can feel himself going, piece by piece. Soon he will be gone - and he's not even sure that there will be anyone to miss him. He remembers parents, who cared, but thinks he might have made them up, seen them only in a dream. It's hard to tell the dreams and reality apart when he can't see reality.

The only thing Ben knows for sure is this glowing golden thing inside of him. For a long time it raged at the cage he's stuck in (he's in here because there is no out there) but eventually it stopped that, stopped pacing, and settled back to wait with the unending patience of a thing born to outlast every other thing.

It's waiting now, silent, watching. Ben can feel it inside. Sometimes it comes and joins him, and in those times Ben stops being an uncertain creature. He becomes something powerful, something that knows its purpose and its abilities and is stronger for it. The thing he becomes does not worry about the future. It lays down to wait, always watchful, always alert.

There is another thing that Ben keeps close to himself: the knowledge that he can't have imagined his pack. Nothing fake can hurt this much.

A tiny light flickers on in his cell. It's nothing more than a pinprick, dull red, but it blazes like a sun in his sight and he flinches from it. Suddenly he can see everything in greatest detail. His breaths aren't so muted, when his feet scrape the floor they make a sound. The little star grows brighter, and brighter, until finally all the lights come on and Ben blinks with the return of his sight.

He wonders what new hell this heralds.

"Good news, Subject 2," says the voice on the intercom. Ben hates that voice that seems like God, talking from above and always watching. "Your alpha wolf has decided to cooperate."


	2. Sly Fox

White Steel Serenity

* * *

><p>Chapter Two: Sly Fox<p>

* * *

><p><strong>NOW - COOPER<strong>

He prowls around the outside of the building, moving between shadows as though he is one himself. His ears swivel constantly, on the alert for humans near him. Beneath his paws he can feel his alpha wolf, Tory. From her comes a sense of overwhelming life. She is no longer the bound, tamed animal she has been these last cycles of the moon. Cooper wants to howl to her, but he knows the benefit of silence.

Since his escape, Cooper has learned a lot.

These days anyone walking around outside is in danger. Cooper is like a ghost as he stalks, and he kills quickly, silently, slinking away afterward. It feels wrong to leave prey just laying out, without eating any, but he can't risk being caught.

He doesn't have a den, because they search for him almost every night. They're not smart though, not hunters like he is. They can't hear his heartbeat, they can't smell his trail, and the dogs they bring in to track him whimper and shy away in fear when they catch his scent.

He smells like a mad dog. A wolf driven out of the pack for sickness. He knows - he's gathered this around himself as just another shadow to lurk in.

And now the pack leader is free, and furious, and alive. She is escaping. His patient wait is over.

She will rise to meet him, and he will descend into the enemy den to help her.

* * *

><p><strong>FIVE MONTHS AGO - THE PACK<strong>

They are let out into the common area again, through opened doors and closed halls. They embrace in the center again, this time shivering with the sudden relief. Then Tory bows her head and says, "I gave in."

She looks up at them then, her eyes such a bright gold that they seem to make their own light. In their minds, she says, _the wolves dig holes around the watering hole and lay in wait. The prey forgets they are there and comes to drink. The wolves leap out, and bring down the strong bull. The wolves are ever-patient. Wait. Wait. Wait. Sleep._

They nod their understanding.

"How sweet," Agent Smith says, clapping his hands together. He has emerged from seemingly nowhere - there must be a hidden door, Shelton thinks. "Let's get down to business."

"What do you want?" Tory growls at him. She steps back into her pack and they draw close around her, still reveling in contact.

"First we will run some tests, to determine each of your abilities. We will of course need more blood samples from each of you. Then, when we have a handle on your skills, we'll begin teaching you to use them in a manner beneficial to all of us. I hope that by that point you will no longer have to be coerced into doing the right thing."

"If this is the right thing," Hi mutters to them, "I want to be very, very wrong."

Even Ben cracks a small smile at that, but Smith doesn't look amused. "We have already figured out that you are stronger together, both in the physical and mental sense. Your head physician will be Doctor Smith, here," he motions to a blank stretch of wall; a door opens from it, and out steps a woman with a clipboard. Tory recognizes her as the woman who was trapped in her stare.

"You will treat her with utmost respect." Agent Smith says, warningly, looking at Tory.

Tory only smiles blandly at him, and her grin turns sharp and malicious when she turns to the doctor. "So, doc, how's it been?" she sniffs loudly, says, "I can still smell that fear."

Smith doesn't meet her eyes, but scowls at the floor.

"Tory," Smith calls her attention. "You're up first."

Tory looks back at her pack as she goes to follow him. "I'll be fine," she says. Her eyes flash golden as she adds, _the wolves wait_.

* * *

><p><strong>TEST<strong>

"Okay," the man says. His name tag, as always, says Smith. He seems like more of an assistant than a doctor. "For this, we'll need you to run as fast as you can for as long as you can. Ready?"

Tory looks doubtfully at the long treadmill. It looks more high-tech and bulky than a commercial one. "Are you sure it can keep up?"

Smith gives her a patronizing look. "You could drive a car on this thing."

Tory shrugs, steps up onto the treadmill. She looks at the complicated interface and turns to Smith, who has a stopwatch. "Set it to thirty."

"Miles per hour?" he says, just to make sure. He seems surprised, and doubtful that she can keep up.

"No, kilometers," Tory snarks. "Yes, _miles_."

Then he sets it to thirty, says, "Ready?" and presses Start.

There's a lull where the machine works up to thirty, and then it starts whirring. Tory's eyes flare golden as she opens her breathing and her stride. "Faster," she says, like she's just taking a walk in the park. She wants to see her limits, too, now.

She stops him at forty-two, her breathing deep and even, and holds the pace. Half an hour later she feels like she's starving for air and dying of thirst. Her heart beats fast and loud in her ears.

Smith hits the button on the stopwatch at the same time she hits Stop on the board. The machine winds down and Tory stretches as Smith records things on his clipboard.

"After three weeks on short rations, with little to no physical activity, Subject 1 shows little deterioration." he says into a tape recorder.

And then, because it seems like a good idea at the time and also like it's expected, she claps her palms to his ears with all the force she can muster and sweeps his legs out from under him with her foot. He crumples silently, bleeding out of both ears, eyes blank with shock.

Then Tory goes to make her escape.

That soft hiss she has come to hate, like the warning of a snake about to strike, is the last thing she hears.

* * *

><p><strong>TEST<strong>

"That was a bad idea," Agent Smith says, handing her a bottle filled with green liquid. Tory sniffs it, and is surprised to find Gatorade. "After you'd just tired yourself out, too."

Tory hadn't. She had stopped just short of her limits, faltered just a little bit sooner than she could have. They can't know her true strength.

"Eat, drink. You're going to be on a diet of almost pure protein and other essentials. We want you in top form."

Tory looks at the food he's brought. It's a burger, and next to it a daunting amount of pills. "Supplements." Smith says simply. "And that tech you boxed over the ears is going to be fine. Hard of hearing for the rest of his life, but fine."

"What's next?" Tory asks after she's chugged half the Gatorade and torn a chunk out of the burger.

Agent Smith smiles. "I think you'll like this one."

Tory does.

She faces off against a trained master of martial arts. He's bigger than her, his muscles ripple with every movement and he obviously knows what he's doing.

Tory thinks it'll take more than one of him to beat her.

The match is not long. The man, Instructor Smith, tries first to use his weight against her. Tory, flaring, is easily strong enough to break his grip and lift him off her. In fact the only thing she can't do is land a hit on him; after he realizes that she's stronger than him he goes on the defensive, only sometimes lashing out with fast punches that land half the time and barely hurt. Tory can't land a solid hit on him - he seems to know that if she does his bones will break. He deflects her force with his arms and refuses to stay still.

Finally Tory gives up on all finesse and simply rushes him, hoping to at the very least hit him hard. Instead he brings up a full block with both arms crossed in front of him, and as she jumps impossibly high, striking out with both feet, one of his arms snap. The other one unfolds, lashes out, and hits her forehead dead-center.

Tory suddenly becomes aware that every spot he had hit before is burning in agony and a dark purple already. She is aware of this only for the next second or so, because then she falls into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p><strong>TEST<strong>

Every time Ben brings the weights down, slowly, controlled, he can feel them adding more. Each time it gets harder to lift them, but he still does it. Until - until he feels it, that limit. He won't be able to, soon. It's getting too hard.

This time Ben strains, presses the bar one inch, two, and lets it fall back. "I can't," he says, panting. He looks over at the technician, who is writing something.

The tech squints at the number of weights on the bar, then uses a finger to count them out. "Okay," he says, smiling blandly. "That was very good. We'll get you something to eat and then there'll be an aptitude test."

Ben frowns. "What?"

The tech almost goes to pat him on the shoulder - Ben thinks he's operating under the delusion that Ben is all brawn and no brain. He evidently thinks better of touching Ben, though, when Ben growls and says he'll break the man's hand and most of his arm. It's mostly talk, but the man just saw him bench-pressing a couple hundred pounds.

"Um - it's to test IQ."

Ben shrugs. "Okay."

* * *

><p><strong>TEST<strong>

"Blood first," Doctor Smith says, turning around with a needle hooked up to a pump. She smiles at him. "Then we'll take your resting heart rate and other things."

"What are you going to do with all that stuff?" Shelton asks, trying to sound honestly curious. It's easy, because he is, but it's also a lie - he's gathering information.

Doctor Smith smiles blankly at him. "We need to make sure you're as healthy as can be."

Shelton doesn't have to have Tory's nose to smell the lies pouring out of her mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>TWO MONTHS AGO<strong>

"The lack of progress on the test group is worrying to our superiors and me." Agent Smith says to Doctor Smith, cornering her in her lab.  
>She looks annoyed. "How much progress do they want? It's been four months. We haven't been able to get this far with genetic engineering in four years. We're already moving at light speed - we can't give them FTL just yet."<p>

Agent Smith glares at her. "What's wrong? Do you need more techs? Better equipment?"

"I need more time, that's what I need. I've just figured out how their DNA was changed to begin with."

"How?"

"There are signs of an old virus in their bloodstream. We cataloged and marked it, but it was put on a backburner until the tech working through everything finally checked it against other known viruses and came up with the canine parvovirus, specifically the exact same strand found in their wolfdog."

Agent Smith frowns at the thought of the dog. It had somehow escaped; they suspected it had help from some sympathetic technician. It was now terrorizing their surface operations and generally making life difficult, and seemed unusually intelligent.

"But their strain has subtle differences, which seem to make it capable of infecting humans. The very purpose of a virus is to hijack the body's natural cells and use it for its own purposes."

"So that's what's happening here?" Agent Smith guesses. "It's an infection they'll eventually fight off, or can be cured?"

Smith shakes her head. "No, not quite. The virus is dead - the only trace left are the antibodies still floating around from it. But while it was alive it changed their DNA, and the infected cells didn't die off like usual. They reproduced, and eventually outnumbered and took over the fully human cells. Within a few days they were changed on a cellular level, and it's still happening as more cells are being replaced. For the next nine years or so, they'll only get stronger."

"So what's the problem? Just infect more people with the virus."

"Okay, A, I have to create it first, because just having antibodies doesn't mean anything. And B, I have done that you nitwit, and this is what happens to the infected." Doctor Smith reaches over and flicks on a computer monitor. The screen is split into four, and on each is a person in a bed. Three of them are writhing, moaning, in obvious pain. Vomit has splattered the bare mattress beneath them and the floors around them. Assistants in hazmat gear dart in and out of the frame with buckets of ice water to keep their fevers down, and more are mopping up the mess. The man on the fourth bed is still, and no one is in his room.

"That one's dead," Doctor Smith says quietly, pointing at the man. "And that one," she moves her finger to the frame above, a young woman, "Was his nurse. He coughed blood on her. She was quarantined within seconds, which is the only reason we haven't accidentally started an epidemic. This is what comes of hasty work.

"From what I've been able to learn, I know that subjects one through four did not have an airborne version of the disease, or one communicated through touch. Possibly not even direct blood contact would have transmitted it; it seems the dog is the only viable carrier. Our virus... my virus, can infect with a touch. This is not an exact science. I can't just get it right once. It's a virus - a living thing. It can't be controlled like you want it.

"It's going to evolve."


	3. Anubis' Jackal

White Steel Serenity

* * *

><p>Chapter Three: Anubis' Jackal<p>

* * *

><p><strong>FIVE MONTHS AGO - THE PACK<strong>

They have shared quarters now, which is better by far than being in four separate cells. The only problem is that of course the door locks from the outside and Agent Smith walks in whenever he wants.

"We have a suitable baseline for your abilities," he says, "And now we're going to start improving on them."

"What does that mean? Can you people never just outright say things?" Ben asks.

Smith shoots him a mildly irritated look. "It means you're going to be trained."

"Like dogs?" Hi asks softly, lip curled up. He doesn't really mean for Smith to hear, but he does.

Smith smiles slightly. "If that's how you want to think of it."

"What for?" Tory asks. "Why do you want to make us even more dangerous?"

"You are not dangerous right now. You're out of control, true, but we've proved that we can contain you. Now you need to learn discipline and orders. You'll be doing good work for good people."

"I have yet to see any good people around here," Shelton speaks up dryly. "Are they hiding from us? Have we just been hanging around with the wrong sort?"

Agent Smith is still smiling. "We'll see how much of that attitude you have a month from now."

* * *

><p><strong>ONE MONTH AGO - THE PACK<strong>

He's running. They love it when the mark runs.

"Rin Tin Tin, the cars?" Tory asks into her ear piece.

"Distributor cap removed. They're all disabled." Shelton replies.

Tory grins with sharp teeth. "It'll be a chase."

The sound of soft laughter comes through her ear.

"I love it when they run," Ben says.

"Close in, pack," Tory says. "Watch the exits."

"Got him." Hi mutters minutes later. "He's trying the car."

"Start him, Pluto, we're coming."

"Copy, Alpha."

Tory hears the sound of a man screaming in fright, quickly cut off. Three footsteps on the pavement, successively farther apart as he picks up speed. Then he's into the grass. He hopes to escape into the woods around his safehouse.

Tory can feel her pack circle him, settle into position. Hi sends up the howl first, purely instinctive. It's a greeting, _I am here!_ and a hunt, _run the prey_ and also serves to make the man even more afraid. He makes a quiet whimpering sound and tries to run faster. Tory thinks she could track him by fear-scent alone.

Shelton howls back with his position, then Ben, and finally Tory. Their prey has to know it's surrounded now.

Tory growls, tired of matching the slow human's speed. She speeds up, circles in front of him, and crosses his path, snarling with malicious glee as he stumbles to a halt briefly, and takes a left turn. Ben is already there, boxing him in.

Tory knows this area. She's never run it before but it's her territory, she can feel the ground slope beneath her feet. There's a stream in the man's path, and the bank leading down to it is steep. If they can run him into it he might twist his leg, fall vulnerable.

They drive him forward in a panic, hunted by monsters he can't see in the dark. Ben appears once in full view, lashing out with one hand, fingers stiff and draw back like claws. He catches at the prey's arm, rips the long sleeve and draws blood. They howl again at the scent. Ben draws back into the chase, herding the prey.

The prey is getting tired; Tory can hear it in his breaths and smell it on him. There is a certain limit beyond which no amount of mind over matter can force the body to keep going, and the prey is about to reach it.

She lands on his back just as he is falling to his knees, driving him face-first into the ground. She doesn't think. It's the next logical step to lean forward, open her mouth, and crush the back of his neck in her teeth...

Tory pulls back just short of killing him, severing his spinal cord. It is the blood, the taste of it, the sight of it, that brings her back. Not of disgust - but because she feels a rush of euphoria and triumph at it, and those are not things she has come to associate with her life lately.

She tumbles back off of the man - how did she forget he was a man? She thinks back now and realizes that her eyes saw human and her brain interpreted prey - and spits the blood out of her mouth. As she does she feels the pain in her jaw, and she spits out teeth. Molars. She pushes her tongue into the sore holes and finds the tips of razor-sharp new ones.

The pack gathers around her, standing up uncertainly. At some point they all had started running on all fours.

Tory gets a flash of an image - Ben and Hi and Shelton all running together, loping on four legs, tongues rolling out with the joy of the chase, yellow eyes flashing.

Tory closes her eyes. "Target acquired," she says into her ear piece, calling the cleanup team. "Ready for pick up."

* * *

><p><strong>FIVE MONTHS AGO - THE PACK<strong>

"This is Professor Smith," Agent Smith says. "He'll be in charge of the more intellectual pursuits of your training. You all scored very well on the IQ tests. And this is Sergeant Smith. He'll be in charge of the physical training."

Tory looks over the both of them critically. The sergeant stands with his feet planted solidly, hands behind his back, chin level, eyes staring straight ahead with occasional flicks over the pack. The professor looks more relaxed; his gaze wanders freely over them, interested, and he steps forward with one hand outstretched to Ben.

Ben ignores him easily, because they are all looking at Tory for their next cue. It's Agent Smith who puts a hand on the professor's shoulder and pulls him back, saying, "I'd advise against touching them. They like breaking hands." He looks over at the pack again, who have pulled together presumably to talk in a semblance of privacy. He mutters into the professor's ear, "And the girl is the leader. Careful with her."

Professor Smith frowns but nods.

"When do we start?" Tory asks, apparently breaking up the pack meeting.

"Right now," Agent Smith says. "Ben, Hiram, you'll go with Sergeant Smith, and Tory and Shelton to Professor Smith."

Tory shakes her head. "No. All of us or none."

Agent Smith freezes. "Do not fall into the foolish trap of thinking that you have options, girl."

"Do not fall into the stupid trap of thinking I am just a _girl_, agent." Tory says, just as dark.

"If you press this, there will be consequences." Agent Smith warns. "We are not unwilling to make exceptions for you, but we expect something in return. And our good will only lasts as long as your own does."

"That explains why I haven't seen any of this so-called good will yet, then," Tory says.

"You'll start with Sergeant Smith, then." Agent Smith says abruptly. "And, Ms. Brennan... I expect _extraordinary _results."

* * *

><p><strong>FOUR MONTHS AGO - THE PACK<strong>

"What's first today?" Tory asks as she pulls on a black shirt. It's emblazoned with some sort of logo - a sort of stylized star in a circle.

"The obstacle course," Ben answers, checking the display screen next to their door. "Then lessons with the professor. Hand to hand practice, then guns, then the run."

"They schedule us for a meal?" Hi asks.

Ben checks again, absently tying his boots. "Nope. We ate two days ago."

Tory loops an arm through Hi's. "They'll let something loose on the run today, Hi. How hungry are you?"

"Not really. Just feels strange not eating three meals a day anymore."

"It's inefficient, especially when we can function on one feast every few days."

"I know."

The obstacle course has been specially designed for them, and goes through frequent upgrades as they conquer each version. There are shrill, distracting noises that play as they make it through the most difficult parts, and an area where they have to pick their way through a pressure-plate filled area using only a faint scent trail.

When they've done that, they are shipped off to Professor Smith, who teaches tactics, psychology, and general military knowledge as well as the basic school subjects that they're missing. All of this, however, is made more difficult to understand by the fact that he does it in another language. They're still on Spanish and only just starting to master it, and when he deems them proficient in that he says they're starting on Mandarin.

After lessons, which take about seven hours, they return to their room for sleep. After an hour's nap they're waking up refreshed, and go to the Sergeant again for training in hand-to-hand combat against each other. When he's done making them beat that into each other he unlocks the door to the firing range with a fingerprint scan and lets them inside. Ben and Tory have graduated up from small firearms already and are on to rifles and shotguns, but Hi and Shelton are still practicing smaller guns.

After they've destroyed the paper targets - to amuse herself, Tory draws a heart in one with bullet holes - they go to the run.

The run is their favorite part of the day.

It's enclosed but still outside. They're given electrified bracelets that send enough volts to knock them unconscious if they step outside the boundary, and set loose. The area is about two square miles of forest and plains. They spend most of their allotted four hours simply running, or hunting down the deer their keepers let loose inside.

Hi catches the scent a few minutes in, calls the others over with a howl to help him hunt it down. Buck, limping on its back foot, easy prey. It won't have a shock collar; if they want to eat, they'll have to catch it fast.

Tory howls, and the hunt is on.

* * *

><p><strong>THREE MONTHS AGO<strong>

"Report." Agent Smith says, looking first at Sergeant Smith.

"Coming along well. Couldn't ask for more talent, although their attitude... I don't know what you hope to accomplish with them but whatever it is they won't do it. To damn stubborn."

Smith waves a dismissive hand. "They're under control. How goes the training?"

"I'm not running out of things to teach them, but I will at this rate. Basically all I can do right now is show them ways to improve their strength and endurance."

"That'll be good enough, then. Professor?"

"Also progressing quickly. There are some subjects that they know more about than I do." Professor Smith says with a smile.

"Anything else to report? No? Good. Dismissed."

Professor Smith leaves the agent's office, but the sergeant hangs back a little.

"Yes? Do you need something else, Sergeant?" Agent Smith asks. His tone says that the sergeant had better not need anything else.

"I was just wondering... what you were training these kids for. Why I'm teaching them stuff that'll let them kill people."

"That's classified." Agent Smith says firmly.

"Okay." Sergeant Smith reaches for the door handle.

"Sergeant, are you having second thoughts? I can have you transferred to another position - if this is no longer what you want, you only have to say so." Smith says it kindly but the sergeant thinks that if he says 'yes' he'll never get to that next position. He'll disappear.

"No." Sergeant Smith says. "I'm good."

* * *

><p><strong>THREE MONTHS AGO - THE PACK<strong>

"Tomorrow you'll see something new on your schedule. We're going to cut down to the basic conditioning and start you on weekly practice maneuvers. That means more time with the professor, but once a week I get you for a day or two for practical application of what you've learned so far." Sergeant Smith says, looking over them seriously.

"It'll mostly be things like tracking down a target through various areas, gathering intelligence, breaking and entering, the works. Operations will be completed with supervision from myself, and bracelets with a radius around the area. Questions?"

"What are they training us for?" Tory asks.

Sergeant Smith frowns, and Tory can smell the truth on him when he murmurs, "I really don't know."

She can smell the guilt, too.


	4. Trickster Coyote

White Steel Serenity

* * *

><p>Chapter Four: Trickster Coyote<p>

* * *

><p><strong>FOUR HOURS AGO - TORY<strong>

"Tracking practice," Sergeant Smith announces. "You'll be tracking the scent on this - " he produces a square of cloth " - through the town. Without alerting or alarming the townspeople that anything unusual is going on. We'll be watching you closely. And, of course, you'll be wearing the bracelets."

Tory steps forward, takes the square, inhales. The scent isn't over-powerful, but it's not exactly faint, either. She passes it to Ben and looks at the sergeant. "How do you know we won't try to escape?"

Sergeant Smith just looks at her. "We'd catch you."

"Alpha," Ben says quietly, using her call-sign. "Pluto has the scent over there, Rin Tin Tin has another starting here."

Tory considers - two opposite directions. Both the same strength. She glances at the sergeant, who gives her no signal. "Follow both. Pluto and Balto, me and Rin Tin."

Ben nods and goes to join Hi.

Tory sniffs the air discreetly, mouth open to catch more of the scent. She leads Shelton down the street, turning at a stoplight, cutting across traffic, down a back street, between two row houses, through a small park. Then the trail splits.

She sends Shelton down one and follows the other through the park, up to the door of a house. She picks the lock on the door - a new skill taught by the Professor - and follows the scent in, up the stairs, out a window onto the roof. The gap between houses here is less than a foot. She jumps across three before coming to a yard with a trampoline in the back, where the scent suddenly leads to the edge and vanishes.

That's when Hi disappears.

Tory feels it like the world's volume has been turned down. Things go very quiet. She thinks about the practicing. She thinks about the Doctor Smith, who is trying to create more of them.

She thinks, _they split us up_ -

Ben - gone. In the dark forest inside her head, where they live, his flame goes out.

She thinks, _they try to control us_ -

Shelton - gone. Flickering, struggling. Then nothing.

She thinks, _alone_ -

_I am alone. **I am ALONE**._

Tory howls. No one answers.

* * *

><p><strong>ONE WEEK AGO<strong>

Agent Smith lays the status report down on his desk, considering the outside of the file for a moment. It's stamped [CONFIDENTIAL] which to him has always seemed like a useless gesture. It contains good news, though.

He picks the folder up and makes his way down to the lab, where Doctor Smith is bent over a microscope, sketching something with her left hand and making notes with her right as she looks at something. It's an impressive feat of multitasking - but that's why they hired her. She's very good at what she does.

"You've succeeded with the virus?" Agent Smith asks, although he's just read a report saying as much.

"Just got the results back this morning. The virus is almost an exact match against the subjects' antibodies. It'll work."

"Start human trials again, then. Three to begin with. Be more careful with contamination this time."

"I've already taken the liberty." the doctor says, waving her hand at a computer screen. On it, three people sit around in rooms with beds. Two are reading, the last is asleep. Their vitals show below their panels on the screen.

"And everything's good so far?"

"It's too soon to tell, but yeah, I think we might have it."

* * *

><p><strong>FOUR HOURS AGO - TORY<strong>

She doesn't carry the howl for long. There are enemies here - she can almost smell them. They've gotten her pack - they won't get her. She knows where the alpha is, and she's going to get him first.

Tory has known for months about the tracking chips in their arms. With it active she'll never be able to escape them, and she has no way of getting it out. She can feel it there, in the muscles of her arm, but the thin scar where it was first inserted is long since healed and she can't afford the blood loss of digging it out. She has another idea.

The bracelet beeps when she reaches the edge of her radius. Tory takes one more step, and another, every muscle tensed. Her arm is raised out in front of her. One more step -

**_ZZZZZZZ! - _  
><strong>

Tory stumbles backwards off the edge, and the bracelet deactivates. She's panting, and it takes her a moment to remember - pack, enemy, _hurt them_.

She doesn't know for sure that the electricity coursing through her shorted out the tracker, but at this point, as she tears the bracelet off her wrist, she doesn't really care.

* * *

><p><strong>SIX DAYS AGO<strong>

"How are subjects five, six, and seven doing?" Agent Smith asks, stepping into the lab. Doctor Smith looks up at him, frowning.

"Not great, that's for sure. The original subjects have said that they were horribly sick for a few days, so maybe this is only to be expected, but I find it hard to believe that they were vomiting blood and had fevers over a hundred and two. These three are delirious, and starting to get violent."

Agent Smith regards the monitor with a displeased expression, like he thinks they might be doing this on purpose. "Hm. Keep me updated."

Doctor Smith snorts. "What was I doing before?"

* * *

><p><strong>FOUR HOURS AGO - TORY<strong>

She can't say for sure where the compound is, but a sense inside her is pulling this way, so this way she goes. Her top speed is not forty-two miles an hour, not anymore, but it's one she can sustain for hours if she needs to, and if she knows there will be food at the end. This time she catches her food on the go - anything that crosses her path, and she doesn't stop to cook it like they used to do.

As she runs she spits blood and teeth to the side. All of the ones up front are gone now, replaced by fangs sharper and more powerful. Better for tearing. Her stride evens out more, until it seems the most natural thing in the world to fall forward onto four legs, because of course it's faster that way.

When she bursts out of tree cover to find an small office building out of place in the middle of nowhere, she knows she's found the right place.

The guards outside are no match for her. They try to shoot, but she's not the same girl she was six months ago. She knows now there's a certain distance with guns, and once she's inside that distance she can get to the guard before he can get a bullet off.

She takes the rifle he was holding and turns it against the side of his head with all the momentum she has just then - not a lot, but he probably won't live without medical attention. She descends into the warren of tunnels beyond his guardhouse.

* * *

><p><strong>FIVE DAYS AGO<strong>

Agent Smith glances up from the papers on his desk just long enough to say, "Come in," and Doctor Smith enters. She looks pale.

"What went wrong?" Agent Smith asks, resigned, because he knows that look.

Doctor Smith sits down. "Subjects five and seven are dead. The virus killed them."

"How?"

Smith takes a deep breath, and begins. "The virus hijacks the cell, changes the DNA, and the changed cell reproduces. Eventually leading to a human hybrid, like subjects one through four. But in subjects five, six, and seven the hijacked cells didn't reproduce fast enough, and the virus's other symptoms ran rampant in the meanwhile, worsening, until eventually it killed the host."

"Then why didn't the originals die?"

"I only have a theory about that, but it's pretty sound. It's proven fact that children's cells reproduce much faster than adults - they're still growing. I think that, for them, the hijacked cells - the W2 cells, I call them - grew faster than the virus, and provided a sort of immunity against it. Their DNA didn't change because they recovered - they recovered because their DNA changed."

"And how can we use that?"

Doctor Smith leans back in her chair, sighing. "Get me test subjects between the ages of twelve and fifteen. That's the optimum range."

"That'll be more difficult than adult subjects, and they won't be of much use for a while until they grow up." Agent Smith observes.

"I can't help that," Doctor Smith snaps. "This whole project is more than I asked for. It's dirty science. I don't like not knowing what I'm doing."

"With time, could you find a way to reproduce the effect in adults?" Smith asks. "I need some good news to give my boss."

The doctor rubs her eyes tiredly. "I don't know, maybe. I might be able to speed up the cell's process, but that sort of thing always comes with drawbacks. Just - I need time. With time, I can do anything."

"Isn't that always so?" Agent Smith says humorlessly, and laughs anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>ONE HOUR AGO - TORY<strong>

She shoots the locks off the doors that have them, and smashes the ones that don't. Later she'll feel the bruises, but right now all she feels is rage. It's like a forest fire inside, consuming everything.

She breaks another door, and on the other side stands Doctor Smith. The woman is shocked for a moment, then fumbles for the handgun hidden under her desk. She doesn't do more than touch it before Tory is moving forward again, pointing the rifle, growling.

Smith looks into those sun-bright eyes, no longer frozen with impotent fury but alive, searing, burning her alive...

She doesn't know how long she looks into the abyss, but she can feel it looking into her. Searching - finding nothing. Smith crumples when Tory is gone, and stays there on the floor, trembling, unable to move for fear.

* * *

><p><strong>FOUR DAYS AGO<strong>

"Yes, the project is going well." Agent Smith says into his phone, trying to force a light tone into his voice. "Some minor setbacks, but we almost have the virus perfected."

"Ah - well. I do know what a risk the original subjects are, but they are still very valuable as far as observing how the changes affect - "

Agent Smith nods, making the appropriate noises of agreement.

"Well, yes, basically what I'm saying is we can't do it without them yet."

He listens again, and halfway through starts shaking his head. "Inadvisable. Taking even one of them out of the equation would cause the rest to revolt and become completely uncontrollable. That's not something I want to risk."

"No, I'm not afraid of them." He remembers the dangerous look in the girl's golden eyes, and thinks that might be a lie. "I just don't want to take unnecessary risks and make unnecessary enemies."

"They're not just kids."

"They've been trained as soldiers, by your command. Anyone with their training is a threat."

"To put it as bluntly as I can, sir, _we still need them_."

* * *

><p><strong>ONE HOUR AGO - TORY<strong>

Finally she breaks a door and finds Agent Smith on the other side.

"You killed my pack," she says as she hurls the rifle at him. He's still frozen in shock, doesn't get out of the way in time. It slams into his left leg and the bone breaks with a snap.

Smith runs. Tory lets him. She likes it when the prey runs, tires itself out, makes it easier on her. Nothing outruns the wolves.

* * *

><p><strong>NOW - TORY<strong>  
>She levels the rifle at him, then reconsiders and discards it. She wants to do this right - like a monster should.<p>

"I didn't kill them." Smith babbles. "I didn't - it wasn't me."

Tory crouches in front of him, baring her teeth. "It may not have been your hands, but you are to blame." She leans forward and almost gently pulls him by the front of his disheveled suit towards her.

"I didn't order their deaths!" Agent Smith screams. He grips her arms tightly, but isn't trying to push her away.

Without meaning to, Tory smells the truth on him. She's never been this close to the man before - she can smell a lot of things. She thinks she can tell his whole life.

His car is still new, he spends a lot of time there. He lives with a woman and a child. He eats healthy food at home but indulges himself at work. He drinks more than he probably should.

He has a family he barely gets to see. He loves his wife enough to change for her, but feels so guilty. He knows that quitting is not an option - that it means a quiet death somewhere his body will never be found. He wants out, but he doesn't want to leave his wife to rise their daughter alone.

Tory lets go of his suit, pushing him back. It's more than she has ever wanted to know about him, because now he's not just a face she can hate. He's a living person. And she was about to kill him.

"I'm - I'm sorry." Tory says, though she's not sure why. He's done worse to her.

"I can help you - " Smith tries to say.

Tory remembers her anger then, lost in the sudden revelation - how and when had she forgotten that there are other people than her pack in the world? "You've done enough." she snarls. "If you ever come after me again, I'll rip your heart out. Then I'll do the same to your family." It's a low blow, but she justifies it - he's threatened her pack plenty of times.

He goes pale. Tory takes the chance to slam the heel of her hand into his forehead, knocking him out just long enough to let her get away.

She's going hunting.


	5. Alpha Wolf

White Steel Serenity

* * *

><p>Chapter Five: Alpha Wolf<p>

* * *

><p><strong>ONE HOUR AGO - TORY<strong>

Tory leaves the compound, stepping out into clear air. Cooper's there to meet her, leaping up to lick her face. Tory laughs - she's not so alone. But she is.

"We have to find them, Coop." Tory murmurs into his ruff, hiding her face there. He whines, unused to seeing her weakness. Her voice grows hard. "And when we do..."

She's lost a lot of time. When she tracks Ben to the spot he was when he -

His scent is faint, but more incriminating she can see tire tracks where something big and heavy sped away fast. She finds the same at the end of both Hi and Shelton's trails.

There's no way to pick out one exhaust trail from others, not even for her nose. She's at a dead end, she wants to scream with frustration, because where does she go from here?

Then blinding pain explodes behind her eyes and from the back of her head, and Tory doesn't worry about a lot after that.

* * *

><p><strong>FOUR HOURS AGO<strong>

Agent Smith wakes up with a jackhammer going away in his head, and the knowledge that he has pissed off a very powerful girl. So he calls in the backup.

"They've escaped," he says. "Check for the sergeant - he's probably dead if he didn't report this. Find them. They have trackers."

"Trackers dead."

"No sign of the sergeant."

"No sign of the targets."

* * *

><p><strong>NOW - TORY<strong>

"How hard did you hit her?"

"Don't worry, I get the feeling she's got a hard head."

"She shouldn't be out for this long - you probably caused brain damage."

"No more than wasn't already there."

"I think she's coming around!"

Tory's hands shoot up at the same time, fastening around two separate necks. Then her eyes open, cold and hard, as she gets a look at her attackers.

"...Sergeant Smith?" she says, confused, wondering if maybe she really does have brain damage. Then, "Desmond? What's going on?"

"We're here to rescue you." Desmond says. "Serg's my contact inside the center."

"What... how?" Tory asks.

"I kept track of you after I was pulled off the case. When you suddenly vanished six months ago, I was worried. So I tracked you to the center, where I found Serg, who was by then getting really uncomfortable with his new job. He helped me get you guys out. He also orchestrated your dog's escape - they were going to put Cooper down. By the way, can you get him to calm down? We've had to drive in circles to keep him from clawing and barking at the van and drawing attention."

They stopped and Desmond drew the van's door aside a little. Cooper jumped in through the crack, and took up guard over Tory. She told him they were friends, but he only calmed a little at that.

"Wait, you've been watching?" Tory says, thinking. "Then maybe you saw who - who killed my - " she struggles to get the words out, because saying it will be like accepting it. And she just can't believe they're gone yet.

"Killed?" Desmond says. "Tory, your friends are right here."

* * *

><p><strong>SEVEN HOURS AGO - BEN<strong>

He's so focused on the scent trail that the van roaring up behind him almost doesn't register. Not until it screeches to a stop beside him, the door already sliding open, does he realize that it means something.

Things happen very fast.

The heavy end of a rifle comes at his head - Ben ducks instinctive, hunching his shoulders and raising his arms, and the rifle hits his shoulder at just the right spot to make it numb and weak. Ben is still in the motion of turning, still trying to see his attackers. He can feel the danger of them on the back of his neck, in all the hairs standing up, in the uncontrollable shudders. He glimpses -

van two men that are almost familiar dark inside two rifles threat _Hi is in there_

Ben knows this as well and as certainly as he knows that the earth is round; he has never seen it himself, but he knows it is so.

This distracts him for half a fatal second, and the second rifle strikes the side of his head hard enough to knock him out.

* * *

><p><strong>ONE MONTH AGO - DESMOND<strong>

Desmond doesn't keep a file on his computer for Victoria Brennan and her friends. Computers can be hacked. He doesn't even keep any of the documents he gets tracing them through the system. If they're paper he memorizes and burns them. If they're electronic he makes it so they almost never even existed.

The CIA is not to be played with. He doesn't know how far their reach extends, and so he assumes that they can know everything but what is kept in his head. So that's where it stays.

He's never been a very good hacker, but he knows some. These he pays off to get into the top-secret files, and when they offer him the secrets of the most powerful people in America he turns them down. He wants to keep this game small-scale. He's just concerned for the kids who dropped off the world.

He finds them in the basement of a place that doesn't exist. They don't seem as bad as he'd feared, but the note that Tory, strong Tory, gave up worries him. He wonders what happened to her. He wonders what's happening to them.

Their program is called Project Phoenix. Below that, Desmond finds out what's happening there.

When he closes the file, the first thing he knows is that Victoria Brennan isn't really human. The second thing is that he has to get them out.

* * *

><p><strong>NOW - TORY<strong>

Tory doesn't speak, doesn't even move, for a few long seconds. Then she says, "What." flatly, as though she hadn't heard that.

Desmond turns his shoulders towards the back of the van and tilts his head.

Tory, still not speaking, not willing to believe or even hope just yet, climbs over the seat. Until she sees them...

And there they are. The back isn't really big enough for all four of them, they're all tangled up and Tory's crouched over them. She can feel Desmond and the sergeant watching as she feels their pulses in their necks, hears them breathing.

"We're keeping them knocked out until we got you. Figured they might be some trouble." Desmond says.

Tory still doesn't speak. She's holding Shelton and Hi's hands, still kneeling there. Tears make shining tracks down her face.

"I thought they were dead," Tory chokes out finally, smiling and crying. "I was ready to..." she laughs.

Cooper howls.

* * *

><p><strong>NOW<strong>

"Sweep the town. I don't think she's gone far yet." Agent Smith orders.

"Sir," he gets a minute later. "We've found a suspicious van in town."

"Suspicious how?" Smith asks, irritated. He wonders if maybe it has 'suspicious' printed on the side. That would be helpful.

"Blacked windows, not moving, parked on the wrong side of the road. Bigger than most commercial vehicles. And there's howling inside."

"Search it! I'm on my way."

* * *

><p><strong>NOW - TORY<strong>

She takes up the howl from Cooper, and it brings a sort of relief. There aren't words for what she's feeling, but it can leave her like this, in the pack-song. She has found her brothers. Her life begins again.

The van rocks as the door is torn open.

Tory takes it in as her eyes flash gold. They are surrounded by soldiers in black. One exit is blocked by a man with a semi-auto and an order to get out of the car. The other exit, the back of the van, is covered by more soldiers.

Tory closes her eyes and sends up a prayer. Her hands close on the inside release of the back doors. She pulls the release, quietly, ignoring the man's shouting. She pushes the doors open and steps out into bright sunlight.

She disappears.

Agent Smith arrives in time to see Tory Brennan, Subject 1, throw open the doors of a dark van and begin to step down. Halfway through the movement her entire body blurs, speeds up, and his eyes lose track of her. Like a skipping video, she's suddenly at the first man, her foot is already buried in his ribs, she's at the second man and her fist is smashing into the side of his head.

_They can't move that fast._ Agent Smith thinks numbly, unable to do anything but watch. _They've never been that fast._

Tory finishes with the last soldier. In less than thirty seconds she's taken out four fully trained men. Agent Smith is still just standing there, but he becomes aware of the gun in his hand and he starts thinking again.

Like she can hear it, Tory turns to him. He raises it - it seems so slow in his mind, but she doesn't move. He fires.

She's fast. She's not faster than bullets, Smith thinks.

She sees Agent Smith with the gun, but she can't do anything about it. She's standing in front of her pack, the open doors of the van. If she moves, one of them gets hit. She can't let that happen. She knows what happens when they die now, and she'd rather be dead than be that monster.

So she stands, ready to take the bullet.

Something huge and heavy slams into her from the side, knocking her out of the way. Tory flies - however strong she is, she's still light. She lands on her hands and feet from reflex, facing the van.

Desmond's lying there, not moving.

Cooper comes from out of nowhere, landing on Smith's back, teeth already fastened in his neck. The man doesn't even get a chance to scream. Tory doesn't see this; she's already at Ratheson's side, turning him over...

She's had anatomy lessons. She knows where the heart is.

"Desmond, talk to me." Tory says, making his head face her. His eyes blink open.

"Tory," he says.

"Stop being such a wimp," Tory orders him, smiling. It pushes out the tears forming in her eyes. "You're going to be fine. It hasn't hit anything important."

Desmond cracks a smile at that. "Such a bad liar, Tory," he says. "I can't feel my heart beating."

"You're going to be fine." Tory says again, because that will make it true.

"Hey, Tory, you wanna know how I knew you'd be the death of me?" Desmond asks. He doesn't wait for Tory to respond. "You brought me funeral flowers. I always knew. This isn't your fault."

"It kind of is, though,"

"Stop being morbid. What do you think it's going to be like, when I die? Where will I go?"

Tory doesn't waste his last moments on another lie. "It's going to be beautiful." she says, and he closes his eyes. "There'll be forests for miles and miles. The hunting is easy and the chase lasts forever. You never get tired. Your pack is always there around you. You're never alone."

"Sounds perfect," Desmond breathes.

He dies.

* * *

><p><strong>WHAT HAPPENS NEXT<strong>

Sergeant Smith - they never do get his real name - takes them back into the van. The rest of the pack wakes up. Tory doesn't tell them about Desmond Ratheson, the man who died for her. Smith says there's an escape route that's all set up. They're fleeing into Canada, and their tracks will be covered.

Quietly, the Virals disappear.

But there are some things they left behind.

* * *

><p><strong>KIT<strong>

It's been seven months since Tory's last phone call - sometimes he thinks it's because she knows he let the police trace her call, but other times he thinks she's not one to hold a grudge so long.

He hasn't been bothered about her disappearance in a while. The police have stopped visiting every other night. He no longer gets emails from Agent Ratheson. It's almost like he never had a daughter. She drifted into his life, quiet, struck with the death of her mother, and not long after drifted back out. Soon she'll be gone for longer than she was here.

Kit should be getting over it. He's not.

He has dreams where Tory just stares at him, like that long drive in the car on the way to a new place. She never speaks, no matter how much he begs. Just looks at him with those cold golden eyes, and sometimes she grins suddenly, delighted, and her teeth are sharp.

Kit doesn't know what to make of those dreams, but a part of them feels real.

* * *

><p><strong>RANVAN<strong>

Agent Ranvan stands up, shedding the blue gloves from her hands. Agent Smith was killed by a crushing force to the back of the neck, severing the brain stem. She looks around at the street, the police-tape cordoning everything off. There are no onlookers - she won't stand for it.

By the curb, black tire burns in the road where the van pulled away at high speed. Blood pooled at the back, all from one man. Not enough to be fatal, but it spoke of a fatal wound. Agent Smith thinks someone's dead, and the body's been taken.

The injured soldiers are healing up. The Doctor Smith has suffered a severe panic attack but is recovering. She still can't look people in the eye, and the psychiatrist thinks she probably never will. Sergeant Smith is a hunted man, but his name is struck from the world and he knows how to disappear. Professor Smith... knows a little too much to be allowed to leave the project.

Project Phoenix goes on.

* * *

><p><strong>FIVE DAYS AGO<strong>

Agent Smith makes a soft noise as a thought comes, a mental note that is now alerting itself to him. Doctor Smith turns around, hand on the door. "Yes?" she asks.

"You said subjects five and seven were dead. What about six?"

Doctor Smith makes a disgusted face. "He's still hanging on, but there's nothing human left in him. He's gone insane. We're keeping him alive and sedated, to see how it progresses."

"I'll want to know how that goes, too," the agent says.


End file.
